The Star — Summary

Henry VaughanContemplative

1 Whatever 'tis, whose beauty here below 2 Attracts thee thus and makes thee stream and flow, 3 And wind and curl, and wink and smile, 4 Shifting thy gate and guile;

5 Though thy close commerce nought at all imbars 6 My present search, for eagles eye not stars, 7 And still the lesser by the best 8 And highest good is blest;

9 Yet, seeing all things that subsist and be, 10 Have their commissions from divinity, 11 And teach us duty, I will see 12 What man may learn from thee.

13 First, I am sure, the subject so respected 14 Is well dispos'd, for bodies once infected, 15 Deprav'd, or dead, can have with thee 16 No hold, nor sympathy.

17 Next, there's in it a restless, pure desire 18 And longing for thy bright and vital fire, 19 Desire that never will be quench'd, 20 Nor can be writh'd, nor wrench'd.

21 These are the magnets which so strongly move 22 And work all night upon thy light and love, 23 As beauteous shapes, we know not why, 24 Command and guide the eye.

25 For where desire, celestial, pure desire 26 Hath taken root, and grows, and doth not tire, 27 There God a commerce states, and sheds 28 His secret on their heads.

29 This is the heart he craves, and who so will 30 But give it him, and grudge not, he shall feel 31 That God is true, as herbs unseen 32 Put on their youth and green.

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Gazing at a star, the speaker feels drawn to its flickering, almost playful beauty, but admits he cannot really grasp its hidden life — he is too earthbound, like an eagle that never sets its sight on stars. Still, convinced that every created thing carries a divine purpose, he resolves to find what moral truth it might offer. The poem then turns inward, drawing out a chain of reflections: the star’s pure, restless longing for a “bright and vital fire” is a desire nothing can corrupt or twist. That desire, like a magnet, secretly pulls on the star all night, much as beauty silently commands our eyes. Where such heavenly desire takes root in a soul, Vaughan says, God quietly enters and shares his secrets. The mood is hushed and contemplative, full of wonder at the unseen sympathies between heaven and a receptive heart. It ends with a gentle reassurance — give yourself over to that pure longing, and divine life will stir in you as invisibly as herbs turn green.

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